Painstation - Cyanide Suicide Lyrics

Fried, we fly upon the heated pan and f*cking dive in sin again, indeed - it's f*cking ugly
The feast upon the misery, we live on a crowded cemetery of dreams
Our prayers, they never reach our gods

Silencing
Every whim - It's like asylum
Nay, we won't give up
Won't give in till break the line here

Cyanide suicide hits the run
Cyanide suicide is for fun

Chased by ghosts of bleached and wasted past we lurk in underdark, dead inside and f*cking ugly
Accommodating vanity with mental infertility: that's all we've got and all that we deserve now

Silencing
Every whim - It's like asylum
Nay, we won't give up
Won't give in till break the line here

Cyanide suicide hits the run
Cyanide suicide is for fun

Plan? - Keep sticking to none
Fun? - It's better than gun
Pain at the station remains
Feel it: All hope is gone

Feel it -am malicious, am I gorgeous? - well I'm a mother f*cking hypocrite
Feel it -it's malicious, am I gorgeous? - well I'm a mother f*cking hypocrite
Now. Come get it now
Now. Come get it now
Now. Come get it now